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I push him onto the soft surface.

He lands with perfect posture, poised and ready for anything.

Matteo looks up at me with that mix of vulnerability and confidence only he can offer. He’s starting to lose the character. And he doesn’t have another one, not really.

Only the loving boyfriend he really is.

"Now, I have you where I want you," I say, as I slide out of my pastel pink robe. Then it’s the matching bra and panty set that blends into my skin, makes me look sweet and innocent.

He watches, helpless. Rapt.

I slide into his lap.

His eyes go wide for that perfect moment of union.

Then it’s a buzz against my thigh. His work phone.

"Jamie, baby. I’m sorry. I have to check that," he says, pausing the scene officially.

Damn. I thought we’d finally get to the next phase of this roleplay. Where he distracts me, steals the keys back, and ties me to the bed.

But, no, it’s always work first.

I swallow the frustration that rises in my throat. He doesn’t want to see that. They never do.

I slide off so I can reach his phone. My body whines from the loss of contact. It wants more of him. I want more of him.

But there’s no more time for that.

I focus on action as I hold the cell to his ear.

He’s all business as he speaks with his boss. Yes, no, when, where.

I consider leaving him tied up here. It would be apropos. And it would make my task easier.

But that's not how I want this to go. There’s just something about Matteo. I want to protect him.

"How long do you have?" My voice is sweet and soft. This is my last chance to play devoted girlfriend. I have to make it count.

"Not long enough to do this properly," he says, regret in his voice, "but I won't leave you wanting either."

My heart thuds against my chest. My stomach fills with butterflies.

For a second, I reconsider.

I'm going to miss him. Miss this.

But what other choice do I have? Even if I wanted to quit my job—and I don’t—I can’t. There are strict rules around retirement.

So I focus on this moment. The click of the key. My hands on his wrists. His head, between my legs.

Dammit, he’s good at this. I see stars. I forget about what I’m really doing here.

And then we pull apart and I kiss him like it’s the last time.

Unless the stars align, it is.

He releases me with a sigh—one that says, I don't want to leave so quickly, but I know you'll be here when I get back. Then he stands and washes up and I do what I need to do.